Page 50 of Riding A Cock-Horse
They weren't bringing anyone to help her, were they?
Which leads me to the inevitable conclusion thatI'mgoing to have to help her. Inwardly, I'm having an absolute shitfit—a meltdown of epic proportions—but on the outside, I’m cool as a cucumber-cock. I slap a smile on my face and walk over to the sink to wash my hands.
“So, I'm Dr. Honey, and you havenothingto worryabout. I've got you covered,” I lie over my shoulder.
The other woman who looks terribly ill whimpers, as if she knows this. As long as nobody asks me for my credentials, we should be ship-shape, right?
“Ok,” I croon soothingly, walking back over to the laboring woman with my freshly washed hands, “first things first—we need to get you more comfortable.”
I stare at the woman who's tied to the bed, her hands pinned to her sides and her ankles spread open wide… this is going to bea lotharder than I thought. Looking around the makeshift hospital room, I search the cabinets under the sink until I find some tools—if you would call them that.I pull out one that I'm pretty for sure are forceps used to yeet a baby forcibly out of the womb—nothing says, ‘welcome to the world’ like being yanked into it. The sight makes me want to vomit, but I'm hoping the forceps are strong enough to help break the chains that are holding the woman down.
I walk back over to the woman and cheerfully explain that being tied down isnoway to give birth. I clamp the forceps around one of the steel chains and pull as hard as I can… and end up breaking the fuckers—which is probably a good thing becausenobaby should haveforcepsused on them. Rage blinds me at the idea, and I can feel prickling under my skin. I quickly tamp it down because now isnotthe time to shift—but the sensation does give me a stroke of inspiration. Grabbing onto the chains, I rip with all my might, and to my surprise, they pull apart easier than my thighs after a dry sex spell. I make quick work of the other three chains before tossing them across the room and fist pumping the air.
“There can be only one Highlander!” I roar, feeling triumphant. “Braveheart’s gotnothingon me!”
Four of the women stare openly at me in shock, and the laboring woman looks deeply perturbed.
“Don't worry—that'snothow I'm going to get your baby out,” I hastily explain.
She doesn’t look convinced in the least, and I realize I probably need to step up my bedside manner.
“Erm… have you worked on your breathing? You know, your hee-hee-hoos?” The woman's eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Well, that's the first step,” I coach. “I mean, at least that's what they say in Lamaze classes, don't they? I don't know. I'm not a—I mean,of course, I know. I’m totally a doctor—do you know how many times I’ve given someone a check-up? Well, more like a ‘check out’, but let’s not get hung up on semantics. Not to mention, I’ve been elbow-deep in god-knows how many vaginas. I’ve got this thing in the bag. Alrighty, everyone, let’s breathe together—on three. One, two, three. Hee-hee-hoo. Hee-hee-hoo.”
All five women breathe with me like we're having a birth seance, and I swear that we’re calling down the fertility gods. When I tell the woman to spread her legs wider and take a quick peek under the hood, I almost tap out. It's seriously enough to scare me celibate. This chick’s wizard's sleeve is stretched to epic proportions—and something is crowning.
Motherfucking crowning.
I suddenly understand how Will Smith felt in the movieMen in Blackwhen Reggie's wife is giving birth to that squid thing.
“Something's peekin’!” I quote out loud in absolute horror. Instead of a squid tentacle popping out, it looks like a furry muzzle trimmed with teeth. “Oh, my god, her vagina has teeth.”
“What do you mean it has teeth?!” the laboring woman screeches, and I realize I accidentally spoke out loud.
“Did I say teeth?” I fake laugh. “I meant fangs.”
At this, the woman promptly passes out.
Whelp, shit sticks.
I'm doing this mission on my own, aren’t I?
This lady better name her kid after me.
“Hee-hee-hoo. Hee-hee-hoo.”
Even though the woman's unconscious, I still do the breathing because, honestly, I don't want to pass out. Then who's going to give birth? I watch as the thing protruding from the woman's vagina tries to squeeze itself out.
That's impressive.
It's starting to look like a face that's been stretched against cellophane. Yep, I'm definitely going to need therapy after this. After a moment, it doesn't look like it can go any further; so, I decide to help it. And would you believe it—the little fucker nips at me! Thank goodness it's got a vagina around it so it can't open its jaws all the way to take a real bite. I smack it, making the thing yelp, but keep trying to help it out.
So much therapy.
I'm elbow deep in birth sauce when suddenly the door slams open. I barely spare the person a glance because I’m too focused on my task.
I hear the person mumble, “What the fuck is going on in here?”
It's Nestor.
